


Insufferable Bastards

by stephrc79



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 06:50:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1459939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephrc79/pseuds/stephrc79
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Q tries to play middle-man peacekeeper to his brother, Sherlock, and John, only to end up taking too much pleasure from watching their <i>fourth</i> epic brawl over Sherlock's return.</p><p>Also, Bond hates getting involved in domestics — he's not MI5, after all — so he tries to sleep through it. Bastard.</p><p>Inspired by this <a href="http://stephrc79.tumblr.com/post/81629040475">gifset</a> by <a href="http://begitalarcos.tumblr.com/post/81629040475">begitalarcos.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Insufferable Bastards

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the lovely lovely [Boots](http://bootsnblossoms.tumblr.com) for her Sunday Afternoon beta work. :)
> 
> And also to Kryptaria for her fly-by beta work.

It was supposed to be a gorgeous day. ‘Supposed to be’ being the operative phrase.

He just had to get through the morning.

Q let out a deep sigh as he brushed his teeth in front of the en suite mirror. He’d barely slept the night before, wary of the meeting that was to take place in his and Bond’s flat in just under an hour.

Sherlock had only been back from the dead a few days, and to say things hadn’t gone smoothly was putting it mildly. He’d apparently tried to tell John, only to make an absolute spectacle of himself in no less than three separate restaurants. Really, what had happened to him in the last two years to make him think that posing as a waiter to ‘surprise’ John was a _good_ idea?

Being the only sane one in their family, Q had asked Sherlock and John to come over to his flat to try and work out their differences. John had seemed truly pissed at Sherlock and had given Q an emphatic _no_ , only to have his apparently new fiance call back and say he would in fact be coming.

Q frowned at his reflection before rinsing his mouth out and replacing his toothbrush next to the sink. He understood why Sherlock had needed to stay dead, but Q hated the idea that the _only_ person Sherlock had ever really been close to had had to be kept in the dark. After all, Bond had even known Sherlock was alive. Hell, six months ago, he’d gone into the field to help Q’s brother with a particular nasty part of Moriarty’s network.

Not everyone had been aware that Sherlock was alive, but of all people, John should have at least known.

Q dressed quickly and headed out to the kitchen to make tea, but not before casting a dirty glance in Bond’s direction. The lazy bastard was _still_ asleep. He was usually up before Q, but Q had a sneaking suspicion he was trying to sleep in just to avoid whatever scene was probably about to unfold in their sitting room. Lazy _insufferable_ bastard.

Maybe tea was a bad idea. After he flipped on the kettle, he pulled down the coffee-maker instead. After all, tea was soothing, and right now he wished to be tense.

Fifteen minutes to go, he thought. With a strong cup of coffee in hand, he went back to grab his laptop from where he’d left it on the nightstand. Might as well check some email while he had a bit of time.

He was just about to pick it up when a shout came from the street below, followed by what suspiciously sounded like Sherlock’s voice. Sherlock’s _laugh_.

Shit.

Q practically dropped the coffee on the nightstand and rushed to the bedroom window, throwing the curtain aside. He looked out just in time to see John’s fist connect solidly with Sherlock’s jaw.

Sherlock stumbled back, but managed to keep his footing. He was still smiling as he held up his hands and said, “John, you must learn to control your —”

_Crack_.

John’s second punch did the trick this time, sending Sherlock sprawling back onto the pavement. Q couldn’t help but smile as John shouted, “You’re a smug twat, you know that? I swear to god, Sherlock, I am going to _kick your arse!_ ”

“Really, John? When was the last time you were even in a proper fight? I, for one —”

That did it. John chased Sherlock down to the pavement in a flurry of punches and angry shouts. Sherlock, in all his infinite stupidity, actually started to fight back.

The two began rolling around in the middle of the street, and Q couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so entertained.

“What is that _infernal_ racket?”

Q looked over at Bond in surprise. He’d apparently woken up and was glaring, bleary-eyed, in Q’s direction.

Unable to shake the smile playing across his face, Q answered delightedly, “John and Sherlock are fighting.”

“Bloody hell.” Bond groaned and fell back against the pillow. He pulled the blanket up over his shoulders and turned away. “Wasn’t the whole point of this meeting to get them to resolve their trust issues — oh I don’t know — civilly?”

Q laughed and turned back to look out the window. “Honestly, Bond, you should come watch this. It’s rather entertaining.” John had just grabbed Sherlock by the lapels, only to throw him against a parked car. Sherlock didn’t hesitate before barrelling back into John, the two of them landing in a heap on the pavement again. Neither of them seemed to be able to get purchase after that, throwing punches that barely made contact or didn’t connect at all.

“I’m going to shoot them,” Bond muttered from the bed, his voice muffled by the pillow he’d placed over his head.

Q snorted. “Like you’ve never solved a disagreement with a fight before.”

“Not at eight o’clock on a bloody Sunday morning!” Bond groused, throwing the pillow at Q.

Q laughed and tried unsuccessfully to bat away the pillow before it hit him in the side of the face. “I actually find that extremely hard to believe.” He turned to glance down at the street again. The fighting seemed to have stopped. John and Sherlock were just sitting in the road, bloody and panting, as they stared daggers at each other.

A rustle of fabric, and Bond padded up behind Q, resting his hands on Q’s shoulders. “Are they done?” he asked cautiously.

Q hummed in affirmation. “I think so. Should we let them in now?”

“Did they ever try to come in to begin with?”

Q shook his head. “Not that I know of. I assume they just ran into each other on the street and tried to... hash it out there.” He huffed out a laugh and turned to place a light kiss on Bond’s cheek. “But I had no intention of letting them continue their brawl inside.”

Bond laughed and planted his own kiss in Q’s hair. “Probably a wise idea. You were pretty uneasy about this meeting last night. I can only assume this is why,” he said, waving a hand in the direction of the window.

“Exactly,” Q said with a short nod. When he looked out the window again, he found John and Sherlock exactly as they’d been moments before. Still sitting in the street. Still glaring at each other.

“How long do you think it’ll take before one of them cracks?” Bond asked thoughtfully.

“I’m not waiting to find out.” With a huff, he threw open the window and leaned out to shout at the pair below. “If you two wankers are done behaving like children, maybe you’d like to come in for a cup of tea?” He gave them both a wolfish grin.

John and Sherlock whipped their heads up towards the window, their expressions going from surprise to sheepish embarrassment when they saw who was yelling at them.

“Shit,” John muttered, though it was still loud enough for Q and Bond to hear him. He stood up, brushed himself off, and offered a hand to Sherlock. “I think we’re in trouble.”

“You could say that,” Bond shouted at them.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes suspiciously at John, but took his hand anyway. After he stood up, he straightened his coat and scarf. “This isn’t over, you know.”

Q could hear John’s deeply irritated sigh even from three floors up. “Hence the invitation,” John countered, waving a hand towards the building’s front door.

It took a few seconds of more suspicious staring before Sherlock finally squared his shoulders and stalked off towards the door. With a shake of his head, John turned and followed suit.

With a laugh, Q shut window and turned to wrap his arms around Bond’s waist. “If they start fighting in the flat, I give you permission to throw both their arses out.”

Bond gave Q a quick kiss. “Is that a promise, Quartermaster?”

Q smiled up at Bond. “It is supposed to be a gorgeous day, after all.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come play with me on tumblr at [stephrc79](http://www.stephrc79.tumblr.com/).
> 
> I promise I don't bite. Well, not unless you ask nicely.


End file.
